


Near To Us No More

by khasael



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Angst, Canon Compliant, Canonical Character Death, Christmas, Gen, Implied/Referenced Character Death, Severus Snape-centric, Unrequited Love, Young Lily Evans Potter, Young Severus Snape
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-26
Updated: 2020-12-26
Packaged: 2021-03-11 05:14:47
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,691
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28329573
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/khasael/pseuds/khasael
Summary: Snape isn't sure why he even bothers having a Christmas tree, so when a present appears under it, he is quite surprised.
Comments: 2
Kudos: 15





	Near To Us No More

**Author's Note:**

> Set 5 months after Harry's birth.
> 
> Originally part of the 2011 Mini-Fest on LJ. The prompt was an unclaimed one from the year before: "There is one lone present under Snape's Christmas tree. Who's it from?"
> 
> I blame some of this on Alan Rickman's performance in HP:DH part 2. Sorry. Also, to add to the depressing, the title is from the original (lesser-known) version of "Have Yourself a Merry Little Christmas". That particular version is not exactly an uplifting song. And though it's implied in the warnings, please note that **if you are looking for something light and full of "Christmas cheer", this is NOT it.**

Even as a small child, Severus had never been one for the Christmas holidays.

His mother had always looked down her nose at the Muggles who went around filled with unreasonable good cheer during the month of December, and who let their children run around like wild creatures, shouting and laughing and chasing each other along the pavements in front of shops and impeding the movement of respectable members of society. She didn't celebrate many holidays at all, but especially not those that Muggles so seemed to treasure.

His father... Well, his father had never celebrated anything a single day of his life. Severus had learned from a very early age that the best way to deal with his father was to avoid him. The one person who could have taught him about what other Muggles found so joyous about the season had no interest in doing so, and once he was gone forever, well... No great loss, to either Severus Snape's or Eileen Prince's way of thinking.

Severus held a slightly lesser degree of disdain for Christmas than his mother did by the time he arrived at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, the place she'd assured him he would end up. He held that resolve and derision up until the very moment Lily Evans ran up to him before gathering with those meant to go home on the train for the holiday, thrusting a silver and gold package into his hands and shyly whispering "Have a happy Christmas, Severus."

He hadn't had a present for her – it hadn't occurred to him to have a present for anyone, but if it had, she would have been the only one he'd have had something for – and even many years later, he still kicked himself for it.

But she'd only smiled at him and shaken her head against his floundering attempts at an apology. "I don't need anything from you. You're the one who told me what I was, and my first friend in this place, and that's good enough for me." She'd squeezed his hand and run off, back to that group of Gryffindors who hated Severus nearly as much as he hated them. Almost a decade had passed, and he could still see the way her red hair flew behind her as she ran, hear her laugh as she nearly fell into that short blonde friend of hers. As she walked out of sight, all Severus could do was stare after her, still amazed at the neatly-wrapped box in his hands, tied with a ribbon the same green shade as Lily's eyes, and feel like his chest might burst.

He'd opened the present on Christmas Day, hidden within the awnings of his bed, as if afraid someone would come and take it away if he let them see. It was only a small box of sweets and a book on Potions you could make to amaze your friends, but it was more than that. It was everything.

The next year, he had a present for her as well – the only thing he could afford, really, though he hoped she didn't know that – and she accepted it with a smile so wide it nearly broke him open. He still didn't see the point of Christmas entirely, but he thought, with that one smile so radiant and meant for him and him alone, that he might finally understand a little bit. When she came back to school after the holiday and explained her family's Christmas tree to him in great detail in their favourite hidden alcove, conjuring a vague image in front of them with her wand, Severus decided that someday when he was fully grown, he would have a tree so great, if only to show her in return.

Only before he could...

Before he could, he went and lost that chance forever with one stupid little word, spat out in anger and humiliation and unable to ever be taken back.

Severus hadn't heard from her since he'd not outright denied the Death Eaters, and there was a place inside him that still felt empty and raw because of it. It twinged every time he saw someone with eyes almost like hers (but never exactly like, no. No one could ever have eyes such a true green, that lovely almond shape, and set off against such a fair complexion), and it ached whenever he thought he heard her voice when buying Potion ingredients in Diagon Alley.

And now that he knew she was the target of a man bent on getting to her son, it nearly suffocated him with grief and guilt. He'd likely never get back into her good graces like he had been when they were younger, but he'd done the only thing he could do at this point in his life – he'd not only begged a madman to spare her life, but he'd gone to Albus Dumbledore in the hopes that he might be able to save her.

The wind howled outside the house in Spinner's End, blowing snow up against the windows so hard the panes rattled. Severus looked out at the white contrasting with the black. From here, he could almost imagine the outline of the tree under which they had oft sat and talked about what it would be like when they were old enough for Hogwarts, sunlight glistening on her hair and lighting it like burnished copper. It was fantasy only; in the dark, in this weather, he could see only inches past the thin glass of the window. With a sigh, he turned towards the fireplace and conjured a faint tree, barely six feet high, but with shining red ornaments and green needles the same green shade he looked for everywhere. The tree flickered slightly and solidified, and with something between a smile and a grimace, Severus went to put on the kettle. Just another evening alone, no matter how adamantly the outside world screamed Christmas.

When he returned to the small living room not much later, something unexpected caught his eye and made him stop so suddenly he sloshed hot tea onto his robes. The tree he'd conjured was still there, still looking faint and ghostly and a pale imitation of the one it was supposed to take the place of – the one that would never exist. But sitting underneath it, quite plainly solid and real, was a small box, wrapped in red and tied with a green bow. Though he hadn't seen it in years, he recognised the neat, elegant writing on the envelope that said nothing but "Severus".

Breath caught in his throat, Severus set down his tea without thinking about it and crossed to the tree, sinking down onto his knees. It couldn't be. He wanted to believe it more than anything in the world, but until the moment he took the box into his trembling hands, he didn't dare.

It was real.

How it had got there was anyone's guess, but it didn't matter. Slowly, as if it might disappear if he was too eager, Severus undid the ribbon and removed the wrapping. Left in his hands was a small box made of cedar and cherrywood, sanded and varnished smooth, the red hints of the wood making it seem almost warm in his hands. He knew what it was without even opening the box itself. These boxes had been around forever, the different woods carrying particular properties and messages, heightening the effect of whatever was laid inside. This box was meant to bestow protection and courage and to remind someone of what was truly in their heart. Swallowing hard, Severus slid the lid off and peered inside.

For a moment he thought it was empty, but then the slip of paper inside shifted and he saw quite clearly that it was only a photograph.

But it was a photograph of the two of them, just as they'd been the morning they caught the Hogwarts Express for the first time. The two of them stood awkwardly together, Lily beaming out at him now just as she had beamed for her father, who had taken the photo. After a moment, Lily elbowed him in the hip and moved closer until her arm was pressed against his, at which point Severus had smiled for a camera for perhaps the only time in his entire life. He shut the lid quickly upon the photograph, grimacing past whatever had caught in his throat, making it hard to breathe, let alone swallow, and turned to the envelope with his name upon it.

_Dear Severus,_

_I know it's been a long time, but I found this and thought you might want it. Maybe it will help you to think of reasons to be strong and do what is right. I have a son now, and I will always do whatever I can to make certain he grows up safe and able to do whatever the world thinks he is meant for. It would be nice if one day he could meet you and I could tell him you made the right decisions in the face of temptation._

_Be brave, Severus, and follow your heart._

_– Lily_

Severus dropped the cream-coloured piece of parchment from fingers that felt numb. He'd already done that, turning on the man who could order him dead without a moment of hesitation and gone crawling back to one he'd left in order to beg him to keep the only person he'd ever love safe. And because of that, if Albus Dumbledore had done his job correctly, Severus couldn't even let Lily know. Not only could he not tell her what he'd done, or why, but if things had gone well, he wouldn't be able to find her to tell her. She could never know. Not if he wanted to keep her and himself alive.

With an ache in his chest that threatened to smother him, Severus once more opened the box to glimpse the old photograph, and wept quietly.

By the following Christmas, there was no longer a reason to display a Christmas tree, real or magic. There never would be again.


End file.
